Remembering R
by Ruby Casablanca
Summary: "But this is Shakespeare. How could Shakespeare make you remember who you were?"


**A/N:** So, I could not be the only one who thought of this! As soon as the balcony scene came on, my best friend and I made the connection with the names and totally freaked out. I'm pretty sure that we annoyed some people in the theatre with our antics! I don't know if they made the names like that on purpose, or if it was just coincidence, but I think there were way too many similarities to the play to be just coincidence. So, struck with inspiration, I wrote this. Hope you like it!

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Remembering R

English

Written in huge capital letters on the board. English, the class he was currently sitting in as he did every day at the exact same time ever since he was accepted into the human society. He couldn't remember if he had ever finished high school first go round, so they suggested that he do it again, just in case. Judging on his skills so far, he figured that if he had taken these classes before, then he wasn't any good at them, and the probability of him actually flunking out in the past became clearer and clearer.

However, this wasn't what he was focused on. Not the word on the board, or the teacher, or the other students. No, his full attention was placed on the old, yellowing book right in front of his face, or more specifically, the title.

His eyes went wide at the sight and his mind started to work rapidly, a million different memories, feelings, sights, sounds, everything hit him so full force in that one second that it felt like the whole world had fallen in on him. He felt as if years had passed him instead of seconds, and he could not contain his anxiety. He had learned too much too quickly; everything had changed unbeknownst to everyone else around him, and he threatened to explode lest he told someone.

He had to find her. Now.

So, gathering up his things, hands shaking in the process, he bolted up out of his seat and darted out of the classroom, running into the doorway on his way out. He could hear the class talking, the teacher calling out after him, but he didn't stop. He ran and ran blocks, down the streets and into the city where she usually was.

The bridge.

He had to find her. The dead couldn't remember, and even though he was living now, all that he was before that should've been lost to him forever. His brain had literally died and come back to life, yet there he was, remembering the past. It was a huge step, something he wanted her to know. And thankfully, there she was, leaning over the bridge, watching the beginnings of the sunset.

She turned to him as she heard him approach, both happy and shocked to find that he was there and not in class, though she had always taken him to be a slacker when he was a zombie. It was something about all the shrugging…still, he looked flustered, like he had something vital to tell her, and she gave him her full attention.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" she asked, smiling at him. When he smiled widely back, his eyes lit up with something intense.

"I remember," he replied breathlessly.

"What?" she asked, not really understanding what he meant.

"I remember; who I was back then, I remember," he repeated with growing confidence.

For a moment, she was brought back to the days when he was still dead and it took her a while to decipher what he was trying to say. Now it was her turn to be at a loss for words, unknowing of how to say anything, her brain not connecting to her mouth. This was impossible, but if what he was saying was true, then this could change the world as they knew it all over again. She could tell he was waiting for a response, but she didn't know how to give one at the moment. Finally, when her brain was finally able to process the information, she managed to piece together a somewhat coherent response.

"R! That-that's wonderful! How, how did you-?" she was stuttering, looking at him with renewed wonder. He was always surprising her, always proving people wrong about zombies.

He shrugged his shoulders, still smiling. "I don't know. But I think it was this," he pulled out his English book, the thin pages ruffling in the wind, showing it eagerly to her wonderstruck face. "I was in class and I looked at this, and then it just hit me. I remembered."

"But this is Shakespeare. How could Shakespeare make you remember who you were?" she asked, completely incredulous, taking the book from him and leafing through it, looking for clues.

"The title…" was all he said in response, and she looked at it, puzzled.

"What about it?" she asked after a few moments.

"My name…"

So she turned back to the cover and read the title to herself. She made a face, wrinkling her nose.

"R is…Romeo? Your name was… is Romeo?" she asked, humor lining her voice, but he looked over the moon, nodding quickly in response. She laughed, tossing the book aside and hugging him close to her. "I still think I like R better…"

"Me too…" he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her slightly away so he could see her eyes. He loved how hazel her eyes were, warm, inviting, and intense at the same time. "But it's funny if you think about it…Romeo and Julie….like it was fate or something."

"Juliet," she replied, giggling away as she connected all the dots. "Julie is short for Juliet… My parents were kind of literature freaks before the war."

He was laughing now too, barely able to contain his incredulity. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I really am…" she was just blown away by all of this, and together they stood, laughing and totally disbelieving everything. There was no way this was really real. But in a way, it all made sense. He had killed her boyfriend and she still loved him regardless; he approached her on her balcony, and then risked his life to save hers while she would've died in his protection. The more he thought about it, the more coincidences were brought up, and it sort of scared him. Their lives were way too similar to the play in which they were named, but he swore he would never let anything or anyone harm her. He would never stop protecting her.

"So what do you think Romeo and Juliet would've done had they not died that day?" he asked curiously, placing his head on top of her hair. It was so nice to feel again, the warmth of her skin, the smooth of her hair, all things he never wanted to miss again. He felt safe; he felt home. As long as he had her, he wouldn't need anything else.

"Hmmm…" she mused, looking out over the sunset. They stood in silence for a long while as she pondered the question, just listening to each other breathe and watching the sunset. It was nearly down, the sky streaked orange and red, before she finally answered, "They would've lived happily ever after."

He looked at her smiling face and kissed her, still stunned by her optimism even after everything they'd been through. She had said it so simply that it was impossible for him not to believe it. It was a new world out there, one where anything could happen, and they had already braved the odds and won once before. Maybe Romeo and Juliet could live happily ever after after all; they could write a different ending to the story. It was worth a try.


End file.
